QoS Chapter 29 - Rowan's Perspective
by darkraven1990
Summary: How I imagined the second half of Chapter 29 in Queen of Shadow's would play out from Rowan's perspective.


Chapter 29 – Rowan's perspective

 **AN – This is how I thought that the second half of chapter 29 in Queen of Shadows might go if it were written more from Rowan's point of view. I've also added a little bit at the end of my own creation because I couldn't just leave it there. I hope you enjoy. It begins where the book leaves off at the end of Aelin and Rowan's argument over sleeping arrangements.**

 **Also the Throne of Glass series and all it's characters are the property of Sarah J Maas, I write this purely because I can't wait for the next installment.**

Once Aelin had stalked off to her closet Rowan heaved a sigh and forced himself to walk into the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face he tried to calm the fire raging through him, Aelin's fire. He could feel all of the restraint that he had built up during the weeks apart crumbling away but it was necessary. This wasn't Wendyln, wasn't Mistward where no one batted an eye at them sharing a room, a bed. She wasn't Celaena Sardothien the assassin anymore, she was Aelin Galathynius Queen of Terrasen and they both had to act accordingly it frustrated him that she couldn't see that. He groaned into his hands, he shouldn't have lost his temper like that and he knew she was going to make him pay for it somehow. He just hadn't been able to help himself, he was already raging due to the thoughtless words of the Captain and she could always get under his skin so easily.

Splashing his face one last time with cold water he headed back into the bedroom and settled himself under the silken sheets. Feeling the material against his skin he had to admit that maybe there was something to be said for a few luxuries especially when they smelt of Aelin. He heard her walk out of the closet glancing in her direction he felt his heart stop as he jerked up in bed. His jaw dropped as he watched her saunter from the closet towards the bathroom wearing that scrap of material.

"What in hell is that?" He watched as she continued to the bathroom, making no indication that she had even heard him. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't keep his eyes from drifting south, to the hem of the pink lace just below the curve of her arse. Gods he was in trouble, his eyes roamed her long slender legs and once again he could feel that fire of hers burning through him. She disappeared into the bathroom and Rowan made a conscious effort to breath, to try and calm himself before she returned. He could hear the water running and tried to steel himself, he had to get through to her somehow for his own sanity at least.

She emerged from the bathroom and he fixed her with his most disapproving stare.

"You forgot the bottom part." She ignored him, walking around the room and blowing out candles one by one. He tracked her figure the entire time, drinking in the image of her all of her curves and scars. She walked back toward the bed with calculated nonchalance and flinging back the covers on her side she said

"There is no bottom part." Rowan tried to focus on her face and voice as she crawled into the bed beside him. "It's starting to get so hot, and I hate sweating when I sleep. Plus, you're practically a furnace. So it's either this or I sleep naked. You can sleep in the bathtub if you have a problem with it." The bathtub sounded like an excellent idea especially after her throwing the idea of her spread across these silken sheets in nothing into his head, the cold porcelain would be just what he needed. A low growl rumbled through his chest, he really didn't need her tempting him any further.

"You've made your point." He watched her as she settled down in the bed, arranging her blankets and plumping her pillows. Focusing on her back, on the tattoo he had painstakingly etched onto her scars. There were places where the ink hadn't quite taken and he used the pattern to calm himself slightly, trying to erase the image of her in head. When he felt he was calm enough he spoke while staring up at the ceiling.

"I need to fill in the ink a bit more in a few places." He felt her turn to look at him but he kept his eyes on the ceiling to avoid temptation.

"What?"

"Your tattoo. There are a few spots I need to fill in at some point."

"Fine" She turned her back to him, he could feel her stiffen and then felt guilty that somehow he had managed to hurt her feelings. Fool, she made him a soft fool, but he hated that she might be feeling low because of him. Once again the image of her walking around the room in that pink nightdress appeared in his head and again he had the thought that maybe some luxuries where Aelin was concerned wasn't a bad thing.

"I've never seen - clothing like that before." He felt her roll over, but refused to look at her he knew that she would have a mischievous smile on her face.

"You mean to tell me the females in Doranelle don't have scandalous nightclothes? Or anywhere else in the world?" He was sure they did but he didn't want her going out and finding any of those to tease him with either.

"My encounters with other females usually didn't involve parading around in nightclothes."

"And what clothes did they involve?"

"Usually, none at all." He tried to fight the image of Aelin naked amongst her silk sheets as it popped back into his head. He shoved it away and forced himself to look at her as she clicked her tongue at him, probably trying not picture him in that type of situation.

"Having had the utter delight of meeting Remelle this spring, I have a hard time believing that she didn't subject you to clothing parades." He bit back a groan, why did she have to bring up Remelle? That was the last person he wanted to think about and wished the two of them never had cause to be in the same room again.

"We're not talking about this." He could feel the smug victory just rolling off of her as he stared at the ceiling. This woman was really doing a number on his usually impeccable self-control. Gods what if she slept in that every night they were here? How on earth would he be able to restrain himself around her?

 _She's off limits, off limits, off limits. Do not cross that line._

"Are all your nightclothes like that?" The words just seemed to slip out, but he needed to know for his own sanity.

"So curious about my negligees, Prince. Whatever would the others say? Maybe you should issue a decree to clarify." He growled he couldn't help it even if maybe he did deserve that smart ass remark. She was just so frustrating and his control was already bordering on non-existent and that grin on her face really wasn't helping he could think of a few ways to wipe it off of her face. "Yes, I have more, don't worry. If Lorcan is going to murder me in my sleep, I might as well look good."

"Vain until the bitter end." He tried not to bristle at the thought of Lorcan seeing Aelin in anything remotely like her current outfit. Distracting himself instead with the knowledge that she had other clothes like those she was wearing now.

"Is there a specific colour you'd like me to wear? If I'm going to scandalise you, I should at least do it in something you like." Rowan wished he could be ashamed of the thoughts that went through his head at that moment but he could not.

"You're a menace." She laughed and the sound was so soothing, something he hadn't heard in weeks. He tried not to smile at the sound, at least she wasn't sad anymore. He knew that her eyes would be dancing with gold, not dull and tired like they had been earlier. Even as he saw those eyes in his head he saw something else as well, Aelin walking towards him in her skimpy little nightwear but it wasn't pink lace it was shimmering metallic gold lighting her up like a living flame. Maybe he would indulge her. "Gold. Not yellow - real, metallic gold."

"You're out of luck. I would never own anything so ostentatious." He smiled, silently thanking the Gods that she didn't actually own anything like it. The image however wouldn't fade. The impulse to reach out and touch her was so strong, his fingers ached to run down her skin but he held himself back.

Half an hour later and he was still laying awake, staring at the ceiling. That gods damned nightgown still stuck firmly in his mind. He was in trouble, so much trouble. Aelin was sleeping peacefully at his side, her hair spread out across the pillows and suddenly he found himself thinking of her with her hair spread across the pillows for a very different reason.

Groaning he pushed himself to the edge of the bed and got up. A cold glass of water might help so he padded silently into the kitchen and sat down at the table, sipping slowly at the liquid until her heard some faint whimpering coming from the bedroom. He rose from the table and ran back to the bedroom, he could smell the fear on her but nothing else. Within seconds he had scanned the whole room for signs of an enemy but there was nothing, just Aelin tossing and turning in the sheets and whimpering caught in the throes of some nightmare.

"No…No…Please…not the dark…don't put me in the dark." Rowan could feel his heart breaking as he looked at her, at the pain and fear on her face. One day he was going to kill every last one of the people who put her down in those dark mines, every person who helped to suffocate the flame that burned inside of her, every person who had reduced her to that broken girl he found in Varese. "No…please…don't hurt him." His breath caught, she was dreaming about someone else too. He walked to her bedside and lit the three candles there, banishing the darkness of the room. "No…don't…not Rowan…anything…anything but him…please." His heart stopped, memories of his own nightmares rising to the surface, the crack of the whip against his back and Maeve's cold cruel voice;

 _Not for all the world Aelin? But what about for Prince Rowan?_

Crawling back into his side of the bed he grabbed her shoulder and shook her.

"Wake up, Fireheart, wake up." She started awake, almost cracking him on the chin as she violently sat up in the bed. Her chest was heaving as she looked wildly around the room, her eyes focused on the lit candles but it was like she was miles away.

"Rowan?" Her voice came out as a whimper. He reached out for her hand and she gripped it so hard he was sure she'd have broken bones if he were human.

"I'm here Fireheart, it was only a dream." She turned to face him and he could see the tears glistening in her eyes. "Come here." She didn't need telling twice as she immediately turned and buried her face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, effectively pulling her onto his lap. He ran his fingers up and down her back, trying to soothe her and not focus on the feel of the lace or how tightly her small frame was pressed up against him. "Do you want to talk about it?" He felt her shake her head against his neck.

"Can we just stay like this for a bit?"

"Of course Fireheart." He continued to run his hands down her back, feeling the ridges of her scars beneath his fingers. She was still shaking against him when he spoke again. "I much prefer your scandalous nightclothes to Remelle's." He felt her move slightly against him and her lips twitched upwards slightly.

"Really? I'll be sure to mention that next time I see her."

"Remind me not to be present for your next meeting, I'd rather not be in danger of being incinerated."

"Well if you're not going to be there you'll have to tell me exactly what you didn't like about her clothing so that I can properly educate her." Her shaking had stopped, so it seemed that his plan to effectively distract her was working although he wished he had been able to come up with a better topic of conversation than Remelle.

"I think in hindsight, purely that it was Remelle in them." Aelin burst out laughing.

"Are you sure you don't want to be there to see the look on her face when I tell her that?"

"Quite sure, I like my face the way it is." He felt Aelin smile against his neck.

"I like it the way it is too, although I'm still getting used to the hair." He chuckled.

"I do apologise, next time I change my hair I'll consult you first." They both lapsed into silence.

"I'm glad you're here."

"Obviously, you need someone to terrorise or you'd get bored." He flicked her gently on the nose and squeezed her side. "We should get some sleep Fireheart." She nodded against him and sighed.

"Goodnight Rowan." She yawned, snuggled further into his chest and closed her eyes.

"You're sleeping like that are you?" She nodded. "Can we at least lie down?" Another sleepy nod. Rowan carefully lifted her and slid them both down the bed. Settling his Queen back down against his side Rowan finally closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Despite all of his earlier protests he felt as though he was exactly where he needed to be.


End file.
